


Back from the Dead

by jendavis



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-23
Updated: 2010-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-13 08:31:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/135241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jendavis/pseuds/jendavis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for hc_bingo  prompt, "cages," and the commentfic prompt, "Sanctuary, Henry/BigGuy, I thought you were dead."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back from the Dead

It had already been a bad couple of weeks before it got _bad_.

Henry had wondered, once or twice, if Magnus had been _off_ , distracted, but he hadn't thought about it too deeply. He missed Ashley too. It hadn't been until Big Guy mentioned how strange she'd been acting that he'd even realized he'd been aware of it at all.

That had been two nights ago, and if Henry hadn't been so…he didn't even know, to be certain, but.

He might've been able to do something about this.

\---

Opening the door, he flinched at the sound of metal hitting pavement as the EMTs struggled to get the gurney onto the ground without upending it.

He'd heard what they'd said on the phone, when the call came in, but he hadn't had to think about _believing_ it until now.

They pulled the sheet down briefly during the identification, and Henry noted nothing more than dreadlocks and a still face before swerving his head away, nodding. He signed the papers the they held out, tried not to notice the questioning glances as one of the younger ones- a woman he didn't recognize who'd probably just had her first brush with an abnormal- cast her eyes around the loading dock. It wasn't too hard to block out, not with the gurney being pushed inside, covered in plastic.

They probably didn't own a body bag large enough.

It took all five of them to transfer him to the steel table in the infirmary. Henry was the only one not wearing gloves.

\---

Finally, the EMTs left him with the papers in hand, and his beloved on the table, and the breath he dragged into his chest at the sound of the ambulance driving away wasn't going to be enough to sustain him through this, and he trained his eyes on the security feed in the corner.

As soon as the gate closed behind the ambulance, he forced himself to try another breath, and he got to work.

He pulled the sheet back, and for the first time, looked Big Guy in the face, but he wasn't looking back. Big Guy's eyes were closed, but it looked nothing like sleep. No rise and fall of the chest, nothing to indicate that reaching out, feel the cold skin underneath his fingers with no pulse beneath, would be worth it.

Henry tried, anyway.

\---

Kate skidded to a halt outside the door, peering nervously through the window at him for only an instant before her gaze fell to the sight on the table. Henry wanted to pull the sheet over him, some last measure of protection meant for Biggs, Kate, or maybe himself.

Opening the door slowly, Kate hesitated in the doorway, waiting for permission before entering, and when she did, her steps were measured, slow, and after a long moment trying not to look at her, the weight of her attention unbearable. Still though, he wasn't going to wipe at the dampness on his face.

It was pointless, trying to hide it. He'd barely even _started_.

He didn't even feel it when Kate wrapped her arms around him.

\---

He nodded when Kate left, slipping out with a murmured, "I'm here if you need me," but it wasn't a relief at all.

 _Fuck_ , this was- he was crying again, couldn't catch his breath and now that he was alone- _totally, completely_ alone, there was nothing holding him back. Sometimes the sobs were howls, and they echoed off the floor and walls, back at him, and they were growing louder.

\---

He was pretty sure it was the wolf that finally managed to slide Big Guy inside, to finally close the door, because Henry couldn't have managed it on his own. He just didn't have the strength.

\---

Stepping to the sink and running the faucet, he avoided his gaze in the mirror, afraid to see green eyes looking back, afraid to see himself standing there, alone.

The cold water shocked him only for a moment, but it was enough to jar him out of himself, just for a moment.

Just long enough to notice that Magnus wasn't there with him. That he hadn't seen her, had no idea if she was back, yet.

He ran for the stairs.

\---

Helen wasn't in her rooms, wasn't in any of the labs. She wasn't walking the halls visiting with her charges, and she wasn't anywhere on the grounds.

"She's not back yet," Kate confirmed, when he found her sitting at Helen's desk. "I tried getting her on the phone, but-"

 _She was gone_.

Henry needed to think.

"Okay. Well."

It wasn't working. He tried again.

"I don't. We need to find her, I'll go get-"

"No. _You_ stay here. Whatever's out there was enough that-" shaking her head, she stopped herself. "You're in no condition. I'm sorry. I'll see what I can find, call you as soon as I know anything, okay?"

Henry nodded, staring at Helen's desk. She was right. On all counts. "I'll call Will, get him in on it."

"He's probably just getting on the plane now, won't be back until morning."

 _Fuck, that's right_.

"I'll call Declan, then," Henry decided, feeling another surge within him. He wanted to tear Helen's desk apart with his bare hands.

But he didn't need Kate seeing that, if it happened.

\---

The phone call would've gone a lot more quickly if he'd been able to spit out the words.

"Hey, Declan? It's Henry. We've got a problem. Magnus is missing. Big Guy's dead."

Five sentences, nothing more, but it was hard, forcing them out past the tightness in his chest, and what did escape, was intermixed with growls and whine's he didn't have the strength to keep buried.

He tried, though. He really did.

\---

Hanging up the phone, Henry was beyond exhausted, and al he wanted to do was- _no_. He didn't even want to _try_ and sleep.

Besides. The clock in the study was tolling out midnight, and there were seven abnormals who needed feeding, and normally… Tonight was supposed to have been Big Guy's shift.

Sally knew something was wrong the moment Henry stepped through the doors, and immediately swam up to the glass, curious and scared, worried, pressing her hands to the glass.

"Hey girl," he said, sighing. Five years on, it still felt odd communicating without words, and it was weirder saying these specific ones. "Big Guy's gone."

She slapped the glass once and swam away, up to the back of the tank, waiting for Henry to come up and around. He stepped up to the food tanks, grabbing the bucket, but he didn't even have it half full before he felt it blasting through him, sad but firm.

 _Stop. No food. Mourn_.

"Sally, _c'mon_."

 _Come here. Please. Close. Near_. It felt like begging, almost, but Sally never begged.

Henry climbed up the steps to the top of the tank and eased himself down onto the metal grate floor. It ground into his knees. Sally surfaced, casting a few drops of water over him as she reached out to grab his arm until he relented, sitting down.

The damp should've been feeling cold, but a warmth suffused through him, with a thousand feelings followed., strong and blinding, trying to calm him and making no sense, and after a moment, her frustration- she knew she wasn't getting through, that it wasn't working- began to bleed through.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Just not the time right now, you know?" He squeezed her hand before pulling away. "Sure you won't eat?"

 _Mourn now. Eat tomorrow_.

"Yeah. I hear you."

Her sympathy followed him out of the room and down the hallway, and there was a final push, acknowledgement, and she broke contact.

He was just glad he'd made it into his room before he began bawling.

His room smelled like Big Guy. There were a stack of his books piled on the floor on his side of the bed, and his glasses were sitting on the nightstand, waiting for him to come back.  
It was the emptiest room he'd ever seen, because-

-he didn't know what thought came next, only that he'd thrown his television out the window, and when he looked at the shards of glass left in the frame he saw himself in the broken reflection.

It still scared the hell out of him sometimes.

But it would help him tear the entire fucking world apart.

 _Goodness. Rage. They equate_.

Crap, his skin was prickling with the stretch, and his face was starting to hurt.

\---

He stared out the window, looking for headlights in the drive, trying not to crush his phone in his hand as he left another message on Magnus's phone.

"Please, just come home." He grabbed the Diazepam from the table, maybe it would blur the edges a bit, make it harder to feel anything. "Check in? I'm- just call when you get this."

He downed the pills, suddenly brutally aware of the fact that without Biggs there to smack him back into himself when he needed it, without Magnus to talk him through it, the Diazepam was the only thing he had left to keep himself human. It had never worked well, and wasn't working now.

"Seriously. I _need_ you here, I don't know what to do." Fuck, this much was _too_ much, and he flipped the phone shut again.

He'd pulled the grenade down from the shelf without even realizing it; his finger finding the edge of the pin, and-

 _No_.

He set the grenade on the shelf again, taking care not to unseat the pin, and took a breath that didn't steady him as much as he'd hoped it would.

 _Just give the drugs time to kick in_.

He had to get a handle on this, but he still could feel the shifts in his musculature, feel the bones stretching and reform, and the rage was only growing stronger.

Tearing apart his desk He couldn't find a goddamned pen, and couldn't remember what he'd even wanted one for by the time he scrounged one up from behind the computer screen.

By the time he did have a flash- _scrawling a note, leaving it for Biggs- no- Magnus. Need a cage_ , he'd already driven the pen into the wall.

When he pulled it out, it rained plaster down on the bed, and the tip was broken off, sending rivulets of sticky black ink down over his fingers and onto Big Guy's pillow.

His claws tore the case when he tried to brush it off, and feathers stuck to his skin.  
It was all he could do to scratch "SHU" into the door as he passed, trying to race himself down before the wolf caught up.

\---

The walls around him were bare iron, the door, too, and the light above wasn't as blinding as it had been a second ago, but his ears were ringing as the last echoes faded out.

He'd howled himself deaf again. That was embarrassing. And even if Biggs didn't say anything about the noise, he'd still give him hell for the claw marks on the wall and the dent in the door, for sure.

 _Oh_.

Henry rubbed at his ears, trying to smooth the pain away, and rolled over to face the wall. The floor was cold on his bare, overheated skin, and that's what he tried to focus on as he waited for the too-familiar change cramps to subside.

\---

He wasn't sure how long he'd been there when the plate slid open, revealing Helen's red-rimmed eyes.

"Henry? Can I come in?"

"Yeah," he said, pushing up and curling around himself, hiding from her gaze as she slid the door open. The set of scrubs she handed him felt flimsy, insubstantial, but he dressed himself quickly, and taking a breath, turned back to her.

"What-" he started, but he had no idea which words were supposed to follow, letting it hang there when she reached for him.

She was squeezing back as hard as he was, and her shaking breaths were nearly enough to set him off again, but he only held tighter.

"It's nearly sunrise. We have to begin."

"No post mortem?"

"Among his people, it would be considered desecration. And while he's our family, I. I would like to do this in accordance with his wishes."'

Henry nodded, pulling away, relieved in that way where everything's still horrible but nobody's asking you to take notes while they dissected your everything.

"How much time do we have before the sun comes up?"

"Not long."

\---

It was horrible and awkward, wrapping the shroud around Biggs, but between the three of them, they got him prepared, and wheeled him through the sanctuary, past the rooms and the cages and tanks.

Everyone said goodbye, and those that could joined the procession towards the library, and when the last of them had seated themselves on the floor, they fell silent for the Watching. Even Two Face held the silence.

Henry thought it would've been harder to maintain, but honestly, he felt numb. He didn't even notice it when the front doors opened. It was Magnus, grabbing his hand and squeezing once, that alerted him. She nodded at him before turning a much less sympathetic eye to Declan before rising to her feet and stepping out into the foyer.

She handed him the hourglass as she passed, and he sat through the rest of the Watching alone, eyes trained on Big Guy's foot where the shroud had become slightly unwound. He couldn't rise, though, couldn't break the Watch, but he wanted nothing more than to jump up, tear at the shroud until he could fix it, until he could eradicate the evidence, until Biggs was lying there, just sleeping, until he was alive again.

He clenched his fist around the wooden frame of the hourglass and tried not to break it.

\---

Most of the residents filed past him when the sand finally ran out, nodding, or clapping a hand on his shoulder, but the ones with any sort of telepathic abilities gave him a wide berth.

He wished the others would follow suit. Even after sitting here for an hour, he wanted a minute alone. But now that the doors were open, he could hear the shouting coming from Helen's office.

Kate caught up with him as he stepped out of the library, put a hand on his arm, shaking her head. He was too tired to throw her off.

"It sounds like they're just getting started," she said. "I wouldn't go in there just now." Henry didn't know how to respond, just stared at the closed door until he felt the tug on his arm. "You should try and get some sleep."

"I've gotta," he waved back towards the library, towards Biggs, lying there, the last of the visitors paying their respects. He'd have to be moved soon.

Kate sighed. "Let everyone say goodbye, and Magnus didn't look too happy about leaving like she did, I'm sure she'll want- hey," she moved her hand to his back. "Just. Take an hour. Get some rest."

 _As if a nap was all it would take to feel better_.

"Or maybe a shower, then, at least. Change of clothes," she suggested waving a hand towards the scrubs he still wore before nodding towards the closed door. "I'll be here, eavesdropping."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay."

\---

He'd wheeled Big Guy down to the alcove, and regarded the crypt with dismay as he considered his options. He could get someone to help, Two Face, maybe, or Kate. Maybe Will, if he was back yet. Between the three of them, they'd be able to move Big Guy's body.

Or he could let himself shift.

\---

He pulled his clothing back on before turning back to the still open sarcophagus, not wanting Biggs to see him this naked and weak, the evidence of the change still so obvious.

He wanted to be _himself_ the last time he touched him, and it was awkward, leaning this far over just to press a kiss into the shroud over his face.

"I love you. I'm sorry. Good-"

He couldn't fucking say it. Couldn't say anything at all.

\---

He could hear Two Face grumbling as he came near, but Henry wasn't any more in the mood for the terminally cheerful side that handed him the plant arrangement. Henry recognized the twigs and flowers from the Dryad's garden, and he placed it on the sarcophagus.

And then he just forgot to leave.

\---

"There you are. Been looking all over for you," Kate said, sitting down. "Is he, ah?"

"Yeah. Moved him over an hour ago. He always said he wanted to be laid to rest here. On the grounds."

"It looks nice. You did a good job." It wasn't the sort of thing he felt like commenting on, but she didn't seem to need a response. Will's back," Kate continued. "He wants to see us."

Henry was going to have to leave this place, soon. "Can you tell him to wait a bit?"

"He says it's important," she explained. "Something about article nine."

"What?" Henry rose to his feet. Article nine meant there was something more seriously wrong than he'd thought, and he'd already thought everything was _seriously wrong_.

"They think Magnus had something to do with it?"

"I don't know," Kate said, standing. "But we should get up there."

\---

Even from across the room, Henry could feel Will's brain spinning, trying to figure out what happened, trying to come up with a plan.

As for himself, he was still a little stuck on the insane concept that Magnus could've done it.

It just wasn't working. Too surreal. Too completely insane to even think about taking seriously.

But then Will was telling him to go through Helen's files, and apparently, this was important.

This was really happening.

\---

Will and Kate's arrival helped him keep his focus, but he was pretty sure, showing them Helen's brain scans on the screen, that he'd felt this afraid once before.

Henry couldn't remember much about his own mother, she'd been gone before Magnus found him, and even that had been _years_ ago. He'd get flashes sometimes, happy, sad, a terrifying rush of blood that blotted out any other memory- but the images were never clear.

It was worse when it wasn't a memory, even if it was only a cold clinical test result on the screen, innocuously proving that not only had Henry already lost Ashley and Biggs, he was going to lose Helen, too.

He could feel Will's regard as they talked, but Henry didn't want him looking, didn't want to think about any of this any more, and was more relieved than he'd admit that Will needed him to hack the police department.

He needed the _distraction_.

\---

The surveillance video had been deleted, and it was just too convenient. Someone was framing Helen. It was, perversely, the best news he'd had all day.

He dove into the police department's email server to see what he could find. The order would've had to come down from somewhere. Soon enough, he had it. A message, last night, from the chief, ordering that the footage be deleted, but not explaining why.

The Chief was a good guy, but he wasn't brilliant. Henry found the email in his trashcan. It was from Helen.

Checking his watch, he wondered how long it would be before he could take another Diazepam, and called Will.

\---

Henry tried to keep his head down and his eyes on the screen while everything kept on going to hell.

The telepaths had arrived, everyone was on edge.

 _Biggs is dead_.

Declan had emailed the other Heads of Households requesting to be put in charge, to take over Magnus's position, and Magnus wasn't around, any more, to defend herself.

 _They really think she did it_.

He finally managed to get the surveillance video downloaded from the backup database, and called the others down to watch. Maybe it was just where his head was at, but he didn't want to watch it- well, at _all_ , but definitely not _alone_ \- but he was the only one who'd be able to clean up the video if it was needed.

When they arrived, he pressed play, and tried not to flinch when he saw Big Guy take the hit, and leaned towards the screen, waiting for the moment the murderer turned towards the camera.

And then the murder did, and it was Magnus, and he hit _pause_ , but his heart wouldn't stop breaking.

\---

He kept working because Will's wasn't convinced, yet, and his hope seemed to be nearly enough to keep the wolf at bay. When the error popped up and the file began to decompress, spewing code all over his screen, he dialed Will's cell.

Not soon after, he was driving through Old City, heading towards some back alley _nothing_ with no idea, any more, what was going on. He couldn't understand why Will found the code so encouraging, but he didn't have the heart left over to tell him, and it was a puzzle for him to fix.

It would keep him occupied a little while longer, at least. Maybe keep him from having to cage himself up again.

Maybe not.

Eventually, he found it. A ghost directory called Big Bertha, containing massive amounts of troubling data.

And even Will, when the psychics asked if he still thought Magnus was innocent, said nothing.

\---

He couldn't decide whether to pass out or smash everything he could get his hands on, so he texted Will, telling him to let him out of the SHU in the morning, and stripped himself down, leaving his clothing by the door and curling around himself, trying to stave off the cold.

The wolf was stirring, but this time, at least, didn't surface entirely- he was too exhausted. It even let him sleep, for the most part, though he was too freezing to keep it up for long. By the time Will came to release him, Henry figured that he probably could've spent the night in his own bed.

But he wasn't _sure_. Nobody'd been there to _tell_ him. Nobody _would_ be, any more.

Maybe the SHU was going to become a regular thing.

\---

The psychics had left, which was a bit of a relief, but it didn't change a damned thing. Everyone was still walking on eggshells.

He sat down in front of his computer. Stood up and began pacing again. Caught himself doing it and tried to focus, tried to make himself useful, to do _something_ , anything at _all_ , but he couldn't freakin' _think_.

And they'd had to put Magnus in a coma to slow the progress of whatever it was that was killing her, too.

Henry couldn't find it in him to care, much, about Big Bertha's disappearance after that. Worse, though, there was nothing left for him to do.

No reason to hope, any more.

He sat and watched Magnus, mentally willing her to come up out of her coma long enough to explain herself- she owed him _that_ much, at least, but she didn't stir.

Hours went by without notice, without thought.

And then Will was bursting through the door, manic. "Where's the triad?" he asked.

"They left hours ago, why?"

"Okay, we got to get her under a scanner on Magnus's brain, right now. Big Guy's not dead."

It was too late, though. Henry had run out of hope hours ago, and seeing Will like this? It _hurt_.

\---

Upstairs, though, Will made his case, and despite himself, Henry wanted to believe him. It was enough to talk it out with Kate, and after she pointed out the Ozone beetle locked into Magnus's brain, he was too busy running down to set up the operating room to really give it any thought.

As long as he stayed moving, he was fine.

The surgeon arrived quickly, responding to Declan's call. Kate stood next to him, dead still, while Will paced and Declan sat in one of the chairs. None of them looked away from the proceedings, not even for an instant.

When it was finally done, Henry was actually surprised to find that it had taken eight hours, and he hadn't even noticed. The doctor was coming out, talking to Will, mostly, and saying that it would take a while to recover, and that they were keeping her under for the time being, she should make a full recovery.

He didn't know what he was going to say when she woke up. He honestly had no idea.

\---

Henry stayed behind when the others went to go lay the trap in Djibouti. He wanted to be there when Magnus woke up, when. If. _When_ Big Guy came home.

It took an entire afternoon to fix the window, another two days to fix the SHU door, and the others were probably just starting to get their sting operation underway when he went down to check on Magnus.

He found her already stirring, weakly, and rushed to the bed.

"What day is it?" She asked, blinking her eyes into to focus as she smiled wanly

"Thursday," he said, and turned to leave before he could smother her with her pillow.

\---

It was an hour before the intercom was activated from the recovery room.

"He's _fine_ , Henry. I promise. I'd like to have the chance to explain, if I may."

A week ago, he would've run down there, wouldn't have left in the first place. Today, though, he slammed his thumb over the button and responded, first.

"You promise?"

"He'll be back in two days."

\---

For the rest of the day, Henry flitted back and forth between his room and the infirmary, between confusion, anger, excitement, terror, exhaustion, and hurt.

Magnus filled it all in with more detail when he gave her the chance, but. She'd scared the hell out of them. And Biggs still wasn't back, yet.

Henry didn't have it in him, any more, to forgive her until he _was_.

\---

It was nearly eleven on Saturday, and the others had gotten in a few hours ago, but they hadn't been the ones he was waiting for. He hadn't stopped watching the clock.

He was going up to his lab to check the perimeter cameras for the eighth time that day, wanting to know the instant Biggs drew near, but when the elevator door opened, all his plans went out the window.

 _He's alive._

Big Guy was standing there. Just looking at him, watching him have a near heart attack and saying only, "Henry."

 _He's safe._

Henry wanted to wrap his arms around him. He wanted to strangle him. He settled for slapping him upside the head before trying to find the _words_ , but there weren't any that actually encapsulated the living _hell_ he'd been put through.

 _He's a fucking asshole._

"If you ever do that to me again, I will shoot you _myself_ , you got it?" The words caught in his throat, and the strain of keeping himself from crying, from screaming, was nearly too much to bear.

For a moment, Henry didn't think Biggs was going to react. "Got it," he said, the words hanging awkwardly as they stood in front of each other, neither one moving first.

Biggs smelled anxious, though. He _got_ it. Didn't mean that Henry was going to forgive him, yet.

 _He's home_.

  
But he could at least give him the chance to start earning it.

"Alright, what're you standing there for, lets go eat lunch."

Biggs continued to regard him for a moment, before stepping into the elevator and cuffing him on the side of the head as the doors slid shut.

Forgetting, for the moment, that he was still _royally_ pissed off, Henry smiled, wanting to laugh, and he could feel the grin splitting across his face. He didn't know what it was- the exhaustion, the emotional roller coaster, the _relief_ , or just the strain of trying not to react, but suddenly, he was sobbing, _hard_ , heavy, choking gasps that made his face hurt.

This was not how he'd wanted this to go.

Biggs grunted, trying to get his attention before cupping the side of his neck. Drawing him close, he wrapped his arms around Henry's shoulders and held him there until the elevator reached their floor. After withdrawing one arm to shut off the lift, he resumed stroking down his back, heavily cautious, and not breaking contact.

Big Guy's shirt was wet, but the skin beneath was warm, his heart beat strong, and he smelled like home. When Henry uncurled his arms from around himself to touch him- to _confirm_ \- he found that his breath was coming a little more easily, now.

Biggs kissed his hair when Henry's hands found his sides, and after a moment spent steeling himself for the inevitability, he raised his head, not wanting Biggs to see whatever his face was showing, but needing to see his eyes.

Bigg's mouth nearly became a grin, but the apology in his eyes overshadowed the twitch.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Didn't want to. Had to."

"I know. But. I thought." Henry took a breath, and hurried to stumble through the words before he lost them. "I thought you were _dead_ , you hear me? And Magnus was gone, and all I knew was that we just lost Ashley, and now I was losing _both_ of you, and I. Hell, I had to cage myself up in the SHU, because I came _this_ close to blowing up the entire building, I'm not even kidding, I had _grenades_ and-"

"Shh." Stepping back but not away, Biggs brought a hand up to his face, the rough pad of his thumb smearing some of the dampness away, and Henry had to do _something_ , just so this moment wasn't about him crying like a damned fool, so he wrapped a hand up around Bigg's head and brought him down into a kiss. 

Judging by the reaction, Biggs needed it as much as he did.

Biggs huffed when Henry pulled away, but Henry was finding his bearings again, even found it in him to catch his breath and look at him squarely. "I'm still pissed off, you know. I mean, I still love you, but I'm still _really_ angry."

"I know." Biggs ran his hand along his side, and it was nearly enough to distract him, but Henry refused to budge.

"Good. Just so we're clear," he decided, suddenly tired of being so miserable, so torn open like this. He just wanted to move on, and reached out to open the lift door. "And just so you know, you've got, like, more making up to do than you've ever done in your _entire_ life."

"Lunch _first_ ," Biggs grunted, assessing him as he passed, clapping a hand on his shoulder again. " _Then_ , I'll get started."

\---


End file.
